


The Transmogrifier

by Annakovsky



Category: FiveThirtyEight Journalism RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dimension Travel, F/M, Fake Marriage, Multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annakovsky/pseuds/Annakovsky
Summary: The machine in Nate's apartment is underwhelming, to say the least. "This is what you built to travel the multiverse," Clare says, looking at it.(In which Clare is sent on assignment to Earth 21, where Marco Rubio is president and she is married to Micah.)





	The Transmogrifier

The machine in Nate's apartment is underwhelming, to say the least. "This is what you built to travel the multiverse," Clare says, looking at it. It's a cardboard box, one _maybe_ just big enough for adult to sit in with her legs folded up to her chin, and on the side _Transmogrifier_ is written in Sharpie. Wait -- no. Painted to look like Sharpie. But still. If this is Nate trolling, he hasn't put a lot of effort into it.

"The device itself just needs to outline the dimensions where the person's sitting who's traveling," Nate says. "It's got sensors in the corners. And since it doesn't matter what it looks like, we did it like this. It was Robby's idea -- from Calvin and Hobbes, right?"

Of course this was Robby's doing. Clare's probably lucky it's not in an actual trashcan, given Robby's aesthetic sensibilities. "Okay," Clare says slowly. "So… you're telling me that you've been using this thing to travel through alternate dimensions, and that's how you wrote that article about Earth 2, where Hillary won."

She looks at Micah. "I know," he says. "I didn't believe him either, but then I tested it out, and it really does work. The Transmogrifier thing is dumb, but it works."

Nate looks vaguely irritated. "I think the Transmogrifier thing is funny," he says. "Anyway, but yeah, so we were thinking you could use it to do some reporting in that new series I was pitching you about the various possible futures of the Republican party. It's really helpful --"

"Wait," Clare says. "So you invented some genius machine to travel the multiverse and… you're using it to write articles on what would've happened if Hillary won? You didn't want to, like, go back and kill Hitler?" 

Nate rolls his eyes. "It doesn't travel in _time_ , Clare," he says. "And it doesn't _change_ timelines. I told you, observation only. I went through to Earth 2 a couple of different times, but once I leave that universe, the timeline snaps back and nothing I did while I was there changed anything. You know string theory, right? So the strings get very elastic and -- I mean, the world where the device is located makes a difference, right, it's like an anchor that keeps the timeline moving forward, but the strings in the other universe get stretched…."

Nate talks for about 20 more minutes about the mechanics of this device, and if this is a troll, it's a very persistent and boring one. "So," Nate finally says, wrapping up his technical explanation. "You wanna try it out?"

"Um," Clare says. "So I sit in this box. And you're going to Quantum Leap me into my alternate universe self, in a universe where Jeb Bush got the nomination --"

"Marco Rubio," Nate says. "I told you, you can only get a stable connection to universes that are pretty similar to ours. I'm still working on connection strength and I think maybe I'll be able to get it farther afield at some point but right now --"

"Oh, and you're saying Jeb's too far removed?" Clare interrupts, before he can get going on that technical crap again. 

Anyway, _that_ sounds like trolling, like, get a Jeb! dig in there, but Nate doesn't look like he's joking at all. "Yeah, I mean, I was surprised too, but it turns out to get to a universe where Jeb could get the nomination, you have to find a universe where the Iraq War went a _lot_ better," Nate says. "And those all branched off from our universe too long ago to get a stable connection. Once I think I got close to that cluster of universes, but it took, like, 3 hours to connect and it made me really motion sick. I puked all over the FiveThirtyEight lobby once I got there and I hardly recognized anybody who worked in the office."

"... did _I_ still work there?" Micah says, looking intrigued in spite of himself. 

Nate smiles at him. "Oh, Micah, you work at FiveThirtyEight in all universes," he says. But then he laughs. "Actually I don't know, I had this splitting headache and I was getting really worried about side effects so I pushed the button to come back after about ten minutes."

"The button…" Clare says.

"Oh, yeah," Nate says. "So the part of the device that controls when you come back is here; you have to strap it on your wrist." He produces what is definitely a FitBit. Okay, seriously, if this is a joke….

"Are you kidding me?" Clare says. "You expect me to believe--" 

"What?" Nate says, looking genuinely confused. "Oh. No, it's not an actual FitBit. I just put it _into_ a refurbished FitBit because you have to wear it while you're there and that way people don't ask questions. It has to be touching your skin for you to travel with it. So yeah, so you just, you put it on your wrist, and when you want to leave the other universe and come back here, you push the button on the side and hold it until you Quantum Leap back."

Well… that does kind of make sense. "Okay," Clare says, taking the FitBit gingerly. "So I just… go for a couple hours and poke around at the world where Marco Rubio is president?" She starts strapping it on her wrist.

"Yeah, I mean, as long as you want," Nate says. "But time passes normally out here, because the device is located here -- that anchor thing I was saying -- and our timeline keeps going, so keep that in mind, that you're really gone. If you stay for two hours, it'll be two hours later here when you get back. But yeah, so, poke around and see if you think it'd make a good article. Here, I'll dial in the coordinates."

Nate leans into the box and messes with a digital display on the inside, a series of numbers Clare can't make much of. "So I'm going to Earth 3," Clare says.

"Well, technically it's Earth 21," Nate says. "I've been cataloging them and haven't spent that much time in this one but it was the twenty-first that I -- never mind. But yeah."

"This is the weirdest job I've ever had," Clare says, looking at Micah. He shrugs.

Feeling incredibly stupid, Clare steps into the cardboard box, managing to fold up and sit down inside it. "If nothing happens, and this was an elaborate scheme to get me to sit in a cardboard box and look like an idiot, I'm going to murder you," she says to Nate, and then there's a flash of light.

Clare's sitting in her cubicle, back at the office, her laptop in front of her, fingers resting on the keyboard. Her -- she was just -- huh. So… Nate is for real an evil genius and… is this seriously a world where Marco Rubio is president? This is wild.

The tab open in the browser in front of her is Kim Kardashian's instagram feed, so she guesses this really is some kind of alternate universe version of herself that she's Quantum Leaped into. Sure seems like a Clare Malone thing to be looking at, and when she runs her hand over her hair, it's the same length as it was before, and her cube has the same pictures tacked up. Nate did say that worlds had to be pretty similar to get a connection, right? And up in the right hand corner of her screen, it's still 3:37 pm on Friday, March 23, so… huh. Doesn't travel in time either. Okay. 

She hits control-t for a new tab and, feeling vaguely ridiculous, types in "who is president". A second later, Google obligingly has a big banner at the top of the browser, saying _Marco Rubio_ in big letters, a picture next to it. She closes the tab quickly before anyone can see her question. So… okay. Fair enough. What should she do now? Like… read the wikipedia article on the 2016 campaign to get herself up to speed? What did Nate do when he was writing the piece on Earth 2? Man, though, who cares what Nate did, this is a world where she could do _anything_ , and apparently there are no consequences because the timeline snaps back, and this is _so fucking cool_.

She opens another tab, trying to think what she should google first, but as she does, she suddenly notices her own hand. She's… wearing a ring. On her left ring finger. A wedding ring, and an engagement ring, and… huh. 

Well, _that_ is more interesting than she was expecting. Nate did _not_ say anything about personal life things being different in alternate universes. Who's she married to? She's immediately flipping through her mental rolodex of ex-boyfriends and -girlfriends and crushes. She doesn't _think_ she would've married Brian, but if things had gone differently she could've seen it with Sam, maybe, and -- or it could be someone totally different! This is a totally different universe! 

Probably her text messages are the place to go to do some detective work on her own private life -- this Marco Rubio stuff can wait.

"Hey, Clare, welcome back!" Jody says from behind her as she starts to reach for her phone. Back? From…? Okay, Malone, just fake it. 

"Hey, Jody!" she says. Alternative-universe Jody looks pretty much the same, friendly and square in his t-shirt and button-down, leaning into her cube. 

"How was the honeymoon?" Jody says.

So… she is freshly back from her honeymoon. Good to know. She wonders where they went. "Oh, it was great," she says. "We had a really good time." Faking being Earth 21's Clare Malone is giving her a strange thrill, riding a wave of improvisation, knowing Jody has no idea she's not the Clare Malone he knows. She feels like a spy or an undercover cop, like she should be smoking a long, elegant cigarette and selling secrets to the Russians.

Alternate-universe Nate's walking by behind them ( _AlterNate?_ her brain helpfully supplies) and he grins at her, wiggling his eyebrows as he overhears the conversation. "Bom-chicka-bow-wow," he says in passing.

"Very professional, boss," Clare says, as Jody laughs. 

Micah's trailing behind Nate, and he rolls his eyes expressively at Clare, which makes her laugh. "Hey, Clare, you got a second?" Micah says.

Ruh roh. She hopes he's not wanting to talk about some article she's writing in this universe that she doesn't know anything about. "Um," she says, wanting to ask if it can wait, but then not wanting to give Micah a reason to suspect anything. Not that it would matter, with the timeline snapping back, but it might inhibit her ability to get more information on Clare Malone 21's life. "Sure," she says. (Though… would anyone really suspect that this isn't _their_ Clare Kathleen Malone, but instead a different Clare Kathleen Malone from a related but entirely separate section of the multiverse? Probably not.) 

Micah's office looks the same too -- same tsotchkes, same books on his shelves. You'd think _something_ would be different in a world where she's married, even if it is close enough for Nate's machine to make a connection. Mildly disappointed in the similarities, she's glancing around, taking in the details, as Micah shuts the door behind them. Well, that's a little weird -- Micah doesn't usually shut the door when people are in his office. "Hey," he says, in an entirely different tone of voice, running his hand through his hair, and… wait. _Wait_. Is that a ring on Micah's -- ?

Before the sentence is even fully through Clare's mind, Micah is taking a step toward her, an expression on his face she's never seen before.

"Um, hi," she says, her voice coming out softer in her surprise than she anticipated, and then Micah is kissing her.

She's kissing him back before she has time to think about it, instincts kicking in. Micah is… Micah is a good kisser. He's got one hand on her cheek and one on the small of her back, and he's just the right amount of tall, and he smells really good and he tastes really good and now he's deepening the kiss, just the right amount of tongue, and… holy _shit_ , she's either married to Micah or having an extremely torrid affair with Micah and _either way_....

When Micah finally pulls back, Clare has to focus to stay upright without swaying, and hears herself laugh with an edge of slight hysteria. "Wow," she says, trying to take a deep breath and get it together. What would the other Clare say? Holy shit, Micah just kissed her, and -- focus up, Malone. "Is that why you called me in here?" she says, imagining that if she were sleeping with Micah, she'd at least tease him the same way she does in her own universe.

"Basically," Micah says, then laughs. "Nah, I wanted to tell you I've got that meeting with Nate at the end of the day today, so I'm gonna be a little late home. You want me to pick up takeout on the way?"

"Oh, uh, sure," Clare says. So they are married. Okay. That's… cool. She feels a little light-headed. 

"You want Vietnamese?" he says. "I could stop by that place down the block we've been meaning to try." 

By the time Clare leaves Micah's office, she is not feeling any less light-headed. He knows her usual order when she gets Vietnamese, the one she and Clare 21 apparently share. He kissed her again on her way out, and felt her up a little bit. 

So... she's married to Micah. She's living with Micah. She and Micah just got back from their honeymoon, and tonight Micah is going to pick up takeout on the way home to their apartment for her, his wife. She… huh. _Huh_. 

Well, she can't say this isn't an interesting alternate universe. She really needs to focus on doing at least _some_ reporting on Marco Rubio's presidency, Nate's going to kill her if she comes back to Earth 1 with nothing, but when she gets back to her desk all she can think about is this husband situation. Where do she and Micah even live? How did they… wow, this is really blowing her mind.

She finally gets into her phone, heading straight for the photo roll. There are a lot of pictures of her and Micah, like, a _lot_ of pictures -- selfies of the two of them on the beach, grinning, their temples pressed together. Honeymoon? There are lots of pictures of Micah's dog -- oh God, her dog now too, she guesses? Like, there are a _lot_ of pictures of Piper, and of Micah and Piper. One of Micah on a couch, Piper with her head in his lap and Micah looking knowingly at the camera. Micah showing off painted toenails in another one, Clare figuring she was probably the one who painted them. Micah in bed asleep with his shirt off, a crease on his face from the sheets. That one makes her feel strange, the intimacy of it, how vulnerable it is. It's one thing to kiss Micah, but… he's her _husband_. For real, her husband. She feels a little hollow, high in her chest.

Okay. And… maybe she's always had a little crush on Micah, always thought, like, they get along really well, so if he weren't her editor, if the timing had been right, maybe something would've happened. But -- how _did_ this happen here? When Nate thought Marco Rubio was so great back in 2015, Clare didn't ever consider that Marco Rubio winning the nomination might affect her own life. What an incredibly weird butterfly effect. Yeah, that's the way to think about it, just -- it's a weird universe quirk. She should be thinking how _intellectually interesting_ this is, to have this difference. It's not like -- this doesn't say anything about _her_ or about the Micah back in her universe, on Earth 1. It shouldn't make her feel like anything about herself is somehow being exposed, because it's _not_. It's really not.

The reasonable thing to do would be to keep researching current events here, chalk this up to an alternate universe peculiarity that doesn't really impact anything about her actual life or the reporting she's here to do, and then press the button to go back to her own universe. 

Or… on the other hand. On the other hand, she _could_ go home to the apartment she apparently shares with Micah and… see what happens. No one would know. She could tell Nate and the Micah from her universe that she got caught up reading things and asking some people on the street about their political opinions, checking what Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are doing. They'd never guess that she was, you know, possibly checking out what Micah is like in bed. 

Just thinking those words fills her with a electrifying, illicit feeling, like sneaking booze in high school or the first time she kissed a girl, the feeling of creating a secret world that's just hers. Even though it'd be messed up to sleep with Micah here -- unfair to the Micah in her world, who'd have no idea that Clare knew what he looked like naked or how he sounded when he came. Or… would it be? This is an alternate universe Micah, after all, a totally different person from the Micah she knows in her world. It's more like -- like having a sex dream about Micah or something. Like, what happened in the dream really has nothing to do with the _actual_ Micah and it'd be silly to think about it that way. And sure, you always feel weird after you've had a sex dream about someone you know, the next time you see them, but -- it's not like it has any lasting consequences. Clare's the only one shooting herself in the foot here, and isn't shooting yourself in the foot the prerogative of every red-blooded American?

And anyway, she kind of wants to see what happens. 

She spends the rest of the work day first skimming the wikipedia article on the 2016 campaign, and then going into the FiveThirtyEight.com archives to see what kind of articles they've been writing. Her own byline is full of pieces that look interesting; she was kind of hoping there'd be one in parallel to _The End of a Republican Party_ , so she could steal most of the article she's going to write back in her universe from Clare 21. But of course there's not -- if Marco Rubio had gotten the nomination, the Republican Party was obviously functioning pretty normally as an entity. There sure are a lot of articles on the divisions within the Democratic party, though. 

As she hits the end of the day, she thinks she should probably download the most recent episode of the podcast to listen to on her commute, but when she goes to the feed… it looks like the FiveThirtyEight _Elections_ podcast ( _not_ Politics podcast) ended at the inauguration?

Well. That makes sense, actually. It was always the plan that the podcast would end after the election, or at least inauguration. It was only Trump's win and society's correspondingly intense, prolonged, exhausting interest in politics that kept the podcast going. But it's _extremely_ weird to think about this world where her work life would be so different, her Mondays not structured around the podcast. She wonders if Jody is permanently over on 30 for 30 or if he still does some other FiveThirtyEight podcasts?

Anyway. Doesn't really matter. She starts gathering her things up to head home. To the apartment she shares with Micah, apparently in Brooklyn. (She found the address by looking at her own Amazon.com account for recent orders, so, at least that was handy.) She's about to start walking to the subway, but then remembers that once she leaves this universe, the timeline will snap back like she was never here and thinks better of it. No consequences; it'd be obscene if she didn't at least get an Uber. 

The Uber driver has the radio on and isn't chatty, which is exactly what Clare wanted. Clare looks out the window at the sunset reflecting off the buildings, feels the vibration of the wheels. Doesn't think about Micah, what she's going home to do. Instead she thinks about the story on the radio about Marco Rubio's healthcare bill. It is soothing and dull and Marco Rubio has not tweeted anything of note or said anything threatening to democratic norms in his entire tenure as president. Outside the window, a guy on a bicycle is yelling at a yellow cab. 

**

When she opens the door to her and Micah's apartment, she's greeted by a very excited dog, who has obviously been trained not to jump on people but would very much like to, squirming around her legs in a delighted dance. "Hi there," Clare says, dropping her bag on the floor and leaning down to pat her. Piper lets out a pleased little moan and leans against her leg heavily, lifting her chin so Clare can rub underneath it. 

Clare has met this dog all of once in her actual life. This is weird.

Anyway, she figures probably she should… take Piper out? She's never had a dog before, so she's just guessing here. At least there's a leash right by the front door. Feeling heroically responsible, she clips it onto Piper's collar and starts heading back down the stairs with her, nodding to a neighbor she passes on the way down who seems to recognize her. She's getting that exhilarated feeling back, on this strange adventure where nothing she does matters and where she's undercover in some other person's life. Tricking this dog into thinking she's their owner, tricking this Clare Malone's boss into thinking she's someone else entirely. Tricking Micah into thinking she's his wife. Like she's on _The Americans_ , gathering intel.

After Piper's done her business and leapt back up the stairs excitedly, Clare at least has a chance to poke around at the apartment. It's small but cozy, a third floor walkup, and it's strange to see her own stuff everywhere in this place she doesn't recognize. Her books on the shelves, her mugs in the kitchen cupboards along with ones she's never seen before, the pictures from her current apartment hanging on the walls here. A different couch but her easy chair. Just -- clearly her place but also masculine touches, things that look _exactly_ like something Micah would have bought. A dog bed in the corner, dog toys in the middle of the living room floor. A pile of books she's currently reading back in her own universe on one of the nightstands in the bedroom, a book on the Korean War on the other one. The whole place smells faintly familiar, and she doesn't realize until she's looked in the last closet that she's pretty sure it smells like Micah. Which… she didn't know she knew what Micah smelled like, so that's mildly unsettling.

She's snooped through everything twice (Micah's got Xanax in the bathroom cabinet, which is not surprising) and is just starting to get antsy when she hears someone putting their key in the lock of the door. She sits on the couch and grabs a book at random to fake that she was reading. Piper looks up at her from her dog bed balefully, then puts her head back down and goes to sleep.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," Micah says as he gets the door open. What a dork. 

"Hey," Clare says, grinning at him and trying to act how his wife would act. No, not his wife in a generic sense -- how _she_ would act if she were his wife. Weirdly, that feels a little more specific now that Micah's actually here -- while she was just poking around at his things, at this guy-stuff mixed in with hers, the whole thing was becoming more Husband with a capital H, some generic man-person. But… that's just Micah coming in the door. She knows Micah. "How was your meeting?"

"Oh my God, don't ask," Micah says. He drops the takeout bags on the kitchen counter as he heads for the couch, collapsing on the far side of it with his whole body, so he's sprawled across it and his feet are in Clare's lap. 

"Nate was in fine form, huh?" Clare says, making an extremely safe guess, and puts her hand on his ankle, feeling very daring. 

"He was as Nate as he has ever been," Micah says. His eyes are closed and he's rubbing his temples theatrically. 

"Your life is so hard," Clare says. She starts to rub one of his feet, her heart beating a little faster. Geez, she's like a Victorian maiden here, feeling very forward to be touching his _ankles_. The sexiest place on a man's body, obviously.

Micah opens one eye. "I know, right?" he says. "You miss me?"

"Oh, every second," Clare says, joking it off the way she's sure this Clare does to this Micah, but with him looking at her like that, fond and flirty and teasing… it feels strange. Good down in the pit of her stomach in a way that's making her feel exposed again, in spite of the fact that this is what she meant to do, that she's the one in control here, an undercover agent on a mission to find out what Micah's like in bed. There's no reason for _her_ to feel naked and obvious, like anyone's finding anything out about her.

He keeps looking at her, smiling that knowing smile, this look that makes Clare keep wanting to glance away and blush. She makes herself hold eye contact, and after a second Micah says, "C'mere."

"What?" Clare says, because she _is_ already there, his feet are in her lap, but Micah's reaching his long arm over to take her by the wrist and tug her up towards him. "Oh," Clare says. She follows his lead, scooting up his body until she's lying on his chest, bodies pressed together. "Hi," she says, and he kisses her.

God, he's still a great kisser, and his chest is warm against hers, and the kissing is getting more intense than in his office already. His hands are on her back, trailing up and down, and it's so strange she's kissing _Micah_. He's sucking on her bottom lip dirtily, this playful, provocative kiss she wouldn't have necessarily expected from him, and he's not tentative at all, touching her confident and casual, because he must touch her like this all the time. Okay, yeah, and his hand is resting on her ass now, comfortable and easy and taking it for granted that he can touch her, because she's his _wife_. She's so turned on already she can hardly believe it. 

She didn't -- it's not like she's _into_ Micah. She's just -- she's only doing this as an experiment, she hasn't been pining after him all this time, it's not like she's.... She didn't -- she's not -- it's -- she feels like she needs to rethink some things.

Micah pulls back a little, eyes hooded and dark. "Can I go down on you?" he says. She blinks at him, something in her stomach plunging. She -- this is why she stayed in this universe, but somehow Micah just saying that flat out…. "I've been thinking about it all day," he says. He doesn't say it like it's a line, or like he thinks that will motivate her, like he's trying to get her into bed. He says it like it's a neutral fact about his day, and of course he tells her about his day, she's his wife. 

"I, uh," Clare says. Her mouth is dry. She swallows, feeling like her head is spinning, like she just needs a second to catch up to what's happening here. Micah looks up at her expectantly. "Yeah, okay," she finally manages.

She pushes herself up with her hands on Micah's chest, so he makes a teasing "Oof," noise. It's crazy how much this feels like her Micah -- the Micah from her universe, she means. Teasing her in the same ways, grinning at her like this when she laughs at his dumb joke. "Um, I mean, here?" she says, seeing if she can move to lie back on the couch.

"Well," Micah says. "I mean, not to be a buzzkill, but the last time we tried it like that you nearly kneed me in the jaw, remember? Not that that wasn't sexy for me."

The last time. They've probably had sex on this couch (or tried to) a whole bunch of times. Somehow Clare keeps forgetting that. Micah probably knows exactly how she kisses and how she is in bed and she suddenly feels at a distinct disadvantage. 

Micah's looking dubiously at the floor in front of the couch. "Maybe if you sat on the edge there I could kneel down?" 

Micah complains about his knees any time he does anything, at least in her universe. "Would that be okay on your knees?"

"No," Micah says, and laughs, gesturing toward the bedroom. "You're right, let's just be boring before I hurt myself."

**

Afterwards they're lying sweaty and a little giddy on the sheets, and Clare can't help laughing at nothing in particular. "You're good at that," she says, resting her chin on his chest to look up at him. He got her off _so hard_ , exactly the right angles and pressure so she came embarrassingly quickly, like he's an expert in her body, long nights of practice. She's never had sex that good. She's never -- she. Today has been very strange.

"I know," Micah says, doing his vain schtick, but then he laughs too. "You're not so bad yourself." He starts tugging at her to pull her up closer, wrapping his arms around her to gather her against his body like it's a matter of course. 

"The takeout's probably gotten cold," Clare says.

"'M not hungry anymore," Micah mumbles, sounding pretty blissed out. 

Clare thinks about what he was just doing and can't help laughing at how incredibly dirty that is, which makes Micah snort. "I didn't mean it like that," he says. "You're incorrigible." He might be blushing -- that's amazing. He kisses her temple, messy in her hair. 

"Micah," Clare says, sing-songing his name a little bit. She wants to know so much about how this all happened, how on earth they got together. It feels so strangely natural, so obvious, lying here with him like this. She's feeling overwhelmed by fondness, dizzy with it, somehow wistful about her life back in her own universe, how she never lies in bed with Micah after they've had sex there, how she hasn't done that even once. "Tell me about our first date."

Micah laughs, moving his head to look at her. "What?" he says. "You know about our first date."

"Yeah," Clare says. "But tell it to me how you would tell it to, I don't know, our grandkids."

"Good lord," Micah says at the mention of grandkids, but then he thinks, settling back against the pillow. "All right," he says. "Well, kids, I'd had a crush on your grandmother for quite awhile."

"Yeah?" Clare says, moving her head to look at him now. His jaw is right there, so she kisses it. 

Micah laughs. "Is that news?" he says. "We're married, Clare. I think my crush on you is out of the bag."

"No, I mean, _when_ did you first get this alleged crush?" Clare says. Hopefully this all feels playful, not like she's never heard it before. "Stories are in the details, Micah."

Micah rolls his eyes. "Hey, I'm _your_ editor," he says. "Leave the notes to me." But then he thinks. "I don't know," he says after a second. "Probably since you interviewed for the job, honestly."

"Oh yeah?" Clare says. "Love at first sight?"

Micah makes a rueful face at her. "No, not first sight," he says, like that's dumb. Which it is. "I mean, you were gorgeous, obviously," he says quickly, like she might have thought he was implying otherwise. "But not first sight. It was more, like… I don't know. Five minutes into the interview? When did you make that joke about Romney?"

Wait… Clare made a joke about Romney in _her_ interview in her own universe too. She remembers because Micah -- her Micah, Micah from Earth 1 -- laughed pretty hard. "Um," she says, suddenly feeling very taken aback. She was thinking this was a fun little jaunt, that obviously she and Micah got together in this universe sometime after Rubio got the nomination and the two universes had already clearly split apart. Obviously Micah would've fallen for her _after_ the split, not -- not in her _interview_ , over the same joke she told in both worlds. She hadn't thought there was a possibility that anything in Clare 21 and Micah 21's relationship would relate to her and the Micah in her own universe. 

Not that it necessarily does -- people always change how they remember things in hindsight depending on what happens to them later, so maybe it doesn't apply at all. It's just… unsettling. "Yeah, uh, probably five minutes in. That's when you got a crush on me?"

"I think so," Micah says. "Why, is that weird? When did you get a crush on me?"

Oh, crap. Clare needs an answer. Though… she thinks about her own mild, back-of-the-mind feeling like Micah's a person who she really just… likes. That feeling she has like she always wants to hang around him, work on her laptop in his office, make fun of him on slack. When did that start?

She has this sinking feeling that it may have started when he laughed really hard at her Romney joke, which is a little unsettling. But a good answer for this timeline, so she's not going to overthink it, it's just the first thing that popped to mind, whatever, it's fine! "Oh, probably when you laughed really hard at that Romney joke," she says airily.

Micah laughs. "Copycat," he says. "It was a good joke, though."

"The kind of joke that leads to marriage," Clare agrees. "That's why I told it. Get back to your story, Grandpa."

"Where was I before your grandmother so rudely interrupted me, as she so often does?" Micah says to the imaginary grandchildren, who seem to be located at the foot of the bed. Clare can't help laughing. "Oh yeah, so I had a crush on her for a long time. And then at the Republican convention in the long ago year 2016, we were staying at this hotel that was right next to this karaoke bar. And as you know, your Uncle Nate loves karaoke."

Wait, Clare doesn't remember that -- at the RNC they stayed at a hotel by the airport and there weren't any bars or restaurants or anything good around. Everyone kept complaining about it all week. But… huh. If Marco Rubio was the nominee, a lot more people probably would've gone to the convention, wouldn't they? All those Republican officials boycotted Trump's convention, but they would've gone to Rubio's -- and that would've shifted what hotels were available, wouldn't it? Maybe FiveThirtyEight had to stay farther out of town, and… huh.

Micah's still talking. "So Nate insisted that we all go out to karaoke the first night we were there, which was pretty fun -- even though I was exhausted so I hadn't even wanted to go in the first place, except your grandma was giving me a hard time until I said I would. And then towards the end of the night, when everybody was pretty tipsy and yelling about politics and not paying that much attention, your grandma got up and sang -- what was it? That Taylor Swift song, the one that says, 'you belong with me' over and over."

Clare laughs. "What's the name of that song, that's what you're asking?"

"Yeah," Micah says. "What?"

"The name of the song is _You Belong with Me_ ," Clare says. She can't stop laughing, it bubbling up from inside her giddy, so strangely, deep-down happy.

Micah starts laughing too. "Well, that's a good name for it," he says, through his giggles. "Yeah, that one. So you started singing that song and basically staring at me the whole time."

"What?" Clare says, still laughing. She can't imagine herself doing something that obvious. "I did not! Don't tell the grandkids that."

"You did too!" Micah says. "I swear to God."

"Oh my God," Clare says, putting her hands over her face. 

"Yeah, that's right," Micah says. "So your hussy grandma threw herself at me in front of the whole FiveThirtyEight staff, who were too drunk to notice, and who can blame her since your grandfather is a very good looking man. And then the next night I asked her if she wanted to get a drink after the convention events, and gave her doe eyes until she kissed me. And that's the story of our first date."

Clare's still laughing, weirdly embarrassed even though she's not even the one who did that. What a -- this is so _weird_. All because they stayed in a different hotel. All for the want of a horseshoe nail. She imagines herself out at a bar with Micah at the RNC, exhausted and punchy and in a dark corner, flirting. The idea makes her stomach twist a little. "Very nice," she says. "Good story. Well told." 

**

She doesn't think she could manage to be normal going directly from naked-in-bed-with-Micah to fully-dressed-with-a-different-Nate-and-Micah-who-have-no-idea-what-she-just-did. So instead she waits to push the button to go back until she and Micah are standing half-dressed at the kitchen counter, scarfing down microwaved, sort-of-adequate takeout, figuring she really can't wait any longer. It's getting late. 

As she starts to hold the button down, Micah reaches out to wipe some sauce from her mouth, a very warm look on his face, and then all of a sudden she's in a weird cardboard box in Nate's apartment, the juxtaposition so strange that her whole body startles, which makes her and the box fully tip over. It is not very dignified. Shit, how is she going to face the Micah of Earth 1 after all that? She feels hot all over.

As she's struggling to right herself and get out of the box, Nate saunters into the room, chewing. "Oh, hey," he says, waving at her with the end of a piece of pizza he's holding. "You're back. How'd it go?"

Clare manages to slither out of the box and climb to her feet, feeling ridiculous. "Um," she says. "Good? I think?" She's suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness and has to reach out to steady herself against the wall.

"Dizzy?" Nate says. "Yeah, that's a side effect sometimes. You should eat something. You want some pizza?"

Clare's still blinking, waiting for her head to clear. "Uh, sure," she says, and then can't stop herself from saying, "Where's Micah?"

"Oh, he went home awhile ago," Nate says. 

Thank God. Even though in the middle of the overwhelming feeling of relief she has to admit there's a little bit of something that might be mild disappointment. God, she is all over the place today. She doesn't like it.

As they eat, Clare gives Nate a rundown of the political situation on Earth 21, glad she had at least done her due diligence before she, uh, you know, slept with her editor. Which she's having a hard time stopping thinking about. God, and it's late and she has to go home and write up everything non-personal she can remember about Earth 21 while it's still fresh in her mind, and tonight has already felt ten years long.

As Nate gets another beer, Clare says, "Hey, quick question -- so, you've been to a lot of these alternate universes, right? I'm curious: is stuff ever different, like, in your own personal life?"

Nate blinks, going still. "Uh -- why do you ask?" he says.

Clare shrugs, trying to be casual and not let anything show on her face. "It just occurred to me that something could be different, since they're alternate universes and everything. Like, I don't know, you don't know your best friend anymore because they went to a different college in that universe." 

"Oh," Nate says, his shoulders relaxing. "Yeah, sometimes things can be a little different. Like, in the Jim Gilmore universe? I went out for drinks with some friends after work and one of them was married to someone totally different. That was pretty weird. But usually I just check out the political stuff and don't do a ton of poking around otherwise, so I don't have a good sense of how often things are different, you know, personally." He clears his throat and takes a sip of beer. 

"Huh, that's interesting," Clare says. It's very strange to think about all these parallel universes existing, flowing from one to the next with minor changes, until you might get some place totally unrecognizable. Where her friends are married to other people, or ones where she went to Case Western instead of Georgetown, or where she became a lawyer instead of a journalist. Where she's married to Micah, apparently, or maybe another one where she's married to, who knows, Jody. It makes the world feel large, and strange, and interesting, even as her stomach's roiling over Micah.

"Anyway," Nate says. "Do you think we could do a whole piece on Earth 21, or would it be better to weave together a story about a few universes?"

Clare tries to wrench her thoughts back to, you know, journalism, and she manages to put in a credible show of interest in Marco Rubio's presidency for the rest of the conversation at least.

**

She takes the subway home in a fog, thrumming rocking motion of the train. She slept with Micah. She's seen Micah naked, and been naked in front of him. Seen him looking at her with that look on his face like he's totally, heartbreakingly in love with her. Across from her, she can see her own reflection in the dark window, flickering fluorescent lights and sallow skin, hair up in a messy bun. The reflection looking like maybe it's in some alternate universe too that's just on the other side of the glass, the world full of other selves, living other lives. Like she could walk across the train and into one of them. 

**

The next week, Nate plans a karaoke night for the whole office, one of his fun-outing things that he does once in awhile. It makes Clare feel irrationally caught out, but it's really not that strange -- Nate does love karaoke. It's not Nate's fault that all Clare can think about is Micah, and how in another universe Clare threw herself at him at just such an event.

And of course that Thursday night, when they all get to the karaoke place that Nate rented out, who comes and sits next to her but Micah? She hadn't noticed before, but since she's been back from Earth 21 it's been painfully obvious that… Micah is always sitting next to her. In meetings, if they're all hanging out in the lobby, on the podcast, like it's a matter of course. And they're friends, they get along, but it just makes her think… about that Romney joke during her job interview, the same in both universes. She's been thinking about that joke a lot, the last few days. About multiple nascent futures curled up into that one small moment, about all the junctures in your life where things could go one of two ways, but you can only pick one. 

Everyone gets tipsy. Clare, who early in the evening was having to muster all her powers of concentration not to jump every time Micah's thigh accidentally touched hers under the table, rashly gets the tipsiest of all. She does a rousing rendition of _Single Ladies_ early in the night; Nate sings Temple of the Dog, which is NOT a crowdpleaser. Neil and Walt sing a heartfelt version of _I Want to Know What Love Is_ , and Micah refuses to sing anything. Clare has another vodka tonic and wonders what would happen if she pressed her leg against Micah's on purpose and held it there.

There's a universe where she does it, she's pretty sure. And a universe where she doesn't. And right now, she is sitting right at the crossroads between the two and can decide what universe she wants to propel herself forward into. It's heady when you start thinking about life like that. Clare can't believe Nate's known this about the fabric of reality for months, traveling through dozens of other Earths. She wonders if he feels poised at the junction of two universes at every moment of every day the way she has started to.

"Who's up next?" Nate says. Oh -- Kate's finished with… whatever she was singing. Clare wasn't paying attention, and it looks like barely anyone else was either, everyone drunk and yelling across the tables at each other, having a great, nerdy time. She's pretty sure Walt is making a Stata joke right now.

"I am," Clare says, pushing herself up from the booth. She can see two universes in front of her, very clearly. Fortune favors the bold.

"What're you singing?" the guy running the machine asks her. 

"Taylor Swift," Clare says, stepping onto the stage. Back at her table, Micah's the only one watching her. His eyes really are doe-like sometimes. " _You Belong With Me_."


End file.
